My husband was marrying someone else. And his new bride hired me to do her make up. Right before the wedding ceremony began, I received the payment. And the memo read: [Final payment for Miss Tedd's bridal makeup. Settled by groom Carl Lanion.] Carl Lanion. My husband's name. I immediately pulled up the client file. Sure enough, his name was also listed under the bride's emergency contact. Relationship: Husband. I stared at that single word, my fingertips going cold. At that exact moment, Carl sent me a message: [Honey, don't wear yourself out today. I'm working late at the office.] I replied: [Okay.] Then I took screenshots of every chat, every transfer record, and the entire client contract, saving them all. Half an hour later, the groom arrived to fetch the bride. Carl pushed open the door, beaming, dressed in a crisp white suit. The moment he saw me, his step faltered. But the bride was already clinging to his arm, all sugar and affection. "Sweetie, this is the MUA I told you about." I lifted my head and extended my hand with a smile. "Mr. Lanion, congratulations on your wedding." "I received the final payment. And the evidence." ... The color drained from Carl's face in a single heartbeat. The smug, breezy smile he'd worn just seconds ago now stiffened into something that looked like cheap plaster. Heather Tedd noticed nothing amiss. She even pouted and gave him a playful shove. "Sweetie, what's gotten into you? She is congratulating you." Carl swallowed hard, his throat bobbing painfully. He forced himself to take my hand. His palm was slick with cold sweat. "Th... thank you." I tightened my grip, still smiling. "My pleasure. Mr. Lanion looks dashing today. The suit fits beautifully." "I just wonder whether the fabric will hold up under closer scrutiny." Carl yanked his hand back, his eyes flashing with warning and panic. He immediately turned to Heather. "Sweetheart, all the guests are here. Why don't we let her go? She doesn't need to stay for the rest of the ceremony." He was desperate to get me out of that room. Before I could speak, Heather objected. "Absolutely not!" She flung Carl's hand aside and sat back down at the vanity. "I'm only getting married once in this life. Every single detail has to be perfect." "This eyeliner she just did—the more I look at it, the more uneven it seems." Heather shot me a sidelong glance in the mirror, her tone laced with condescending disdain. "You. Come over here and redo it." I didn't move. My voice stayed level. "Miss Tedd, you confirmed it was fine just a moment ago." Heather slammed her palm on the vanity. "So I didn't look carefully the first time. What of it?" "You're just the hired help. Shut up and do your job!" "My husband paid double the final fee. He bought your service, and you'd better serve me properly." Carl was beside himself, sweating bullets. He kept dabbing at his forehead, trying to pull Heather to her feet. "Sweetheart, let it go. The makeup looks great. The ceremony's about to start—we can't be late." Heather shook him off, her face darkening instantly. "Carl, what's your problem?" "It's our wedding day and you're taking some outsider's side?" "Don't tell me you've got a thing for her because she's got a pretty face?" Carl flinched and waved his hands frantically, scrambling to prove his loyalty. "How could I, sweetheart! You're the most beautiful woman in the world to me!" "She's nothing—just some makeup girl. How could she ever compare to you?" To pacify Heather, he didn't hesitate to throw me under the bus. I looked at his groveling face and felt my stomach turn. This was the husband I'd been married to for three years. The man who made me breakfast every morning, who swore up and down he'd only ever love me. "Well, since Mr. Lanion says so..." I stepped forward, picked up a makeup brush, my voice utterly devoid of warmth. "Miss Tedd, how would you like it changed?" Heather lifted her chin in triumph, like a rooster crowing over its defeated rival. "Take it all off. Start over." "I want the look of a rightful wife—something with presence. Got it?" "Not whatever cheap, sneaking-around mistress look you've put on me." She was clearly aiming her words at me, eyes flashing with provocation. I quietly switched on the voice recorder on my phone and set it down on the vanity. "Of course. As you wish."
Throughout the entire redo, Heather had no intention of making it easy for me. The moment I picked up the powder puff, she jerked her head around. "Gentler! Do you even know how to do makeup? You're going to rub my skin raw!" I paused and looked at her evenly. "Miss Tedd, you were the one moving." "You're talking back to me now?" Heather shrieked. Several bridesmaids swarmed in immediately, all chiming in at once. "You hired help really have no professionalism at all." "Right? Taking our money and putting on airs—who does she think she is?" "Heather, why don't you just file a complaint with her studio? Make sure she loses her job." Heather watched me in the mirror, a mocking smile curling at the corner of her lips. "Forget it. It's my big day. I can't be bothered with someone of her class." She looked me up and down, eyes brimming with contempt. "Judging by your age, you must be pushing thirty?" "Out here baking under the sun day after day doing other people's makeup, and you can't even afford a decent piece of jewelry." "No ring either. Don't tell me you can't even land a boyfriend?" I dampened a cotton pad with makeup remover, my tone perfectly flat. "I'm married." Heather blinked, then burst into exaggerated laughter. "Oh my, married? Then why are you out here doing servant's work?" "Your husband must be useless—can't even support his own wife." Carl stood by the door, his face twisted like he'd just bitten into something rotten. He kept shooting me desperate looks, begging me to shut up. I pretended not to notice. As I wiped her face, I drawled lazily. "He is pretty useless." "Can't earn a dime, but loves playing big shot in public." Heather snorted, drunk on her own superiority. "That's exactly why I always say—for a woman, marrying well beats working hard." "Take my Carl. Young, accomplished, runs his own company." "For this wedding alone, he dropped over a million without blinking." "That's what a real man does—shelters his woman from every storm." My hand paused mid-stroke. A crucial detail had just registered. Over a million? Carl's salary card had been in my keeping the entire time. His meager monthly paycheck barely covered the mortgage. Where on earth would he get over a million for a wedding? "A million is no small sum," I prodded carefully. "Mr. Lanion must really dote on you." Heather assumed I was eaten up with envy. She preened even harder. "Of course. Carl didn't just cover the whole wedding—he even gave me five million as a gift!" "A washed-up divorcée like you wouldn't run into a man this good in ten lifetimes." The bridesmaid beside her covered her mouth, snickering. "Heather, why bother telling her? Her kind has probably never even seen what five million looks like." "Who knows—maybe she got caught playing mistress and got tossed out without a cent." Their laughter was shrill and grating. Carl could barely stand. He strode over and grabbed Heather's arm. "Enough, Heather! We're really running out of time. Just leave the makeup as is!" Heather shrugged him off, irritated. "What is wrong with you today? Why do you keep taking her side?" Carl was drenched in sweat. He blurted out the first excuse he could think of. "The MC is rushing us. Several VIPs are already here—we can't keep them waiting!" The mention of VIPs finally got Heather to rein it in. "Fine. Leave it then." She turned and shot me a vicious glare. "Hurry up and do my hair. If it's not perfect, I'll make you cough up double the fee."
I redid her updo and pinned the veil into place. Ten minutes left until the ceremony. A bridesmaid walked over and handed Heather an exquisite red velvet jewelry box. "Heather, time to put on the necklace." Heather took the box, her face lighting up with smug anticipation. She deliberately turned toward me, snapping the box open with a flourish right under my nose. "Open your eyes wide. Take a good look at what real jewelry is." Inside lay a sapphire and diamond necklace, resting on the velvet. The light caught it and threw off a blinding glare. I'd only meant to glance over. But in the next instant, my gaze locked onto that necklace and wouldn't let go. The rage in my chest detonated like gasoline meeting flame. I knew that necklace. I knew it better than anything. It was the heirloom my grandmother had passed to my mother—the one my mother had fastened around my own neck with her dying hands. Last month, Carl had suddenly remarked that the necklace looked a little dull. He'd offered to take it to his friend's high-end jeweler for cleaning. At the time, I'd actually been touched by his thoughtfulness. I never imagined he would take my heirloom and pass it off as a gift to his new lover. I fixed my eyes on that necklace, my voice cold as ice. "What a beautiful necklace." Heather thought she'd stunned me into silence. She laughed scornfully. "Naturally. Carl had someone bid on it for me at an auction in London." "The starting bid alone was three million." She lifted the necklace and held it against her throat. "A peasant like you couldn't afford a single chip off this stone if you worked your whole life." I whipped my head around to look at Carl. The moment his eyes met mine, he stumbled back half a step and slammed into the door frame. His face was paper-white, his lips trembling. He couldn't get out a single word. "A London auction?" I advanced on Heather one step at a time, my gaze nailed to that necklace. "Which auction? What's the name of the auction house?" Heather flinched at my sudden intensity, then exploded with rage. "Are you insane? What business is it of yours where my husband bought it?" She shoved me away. "Who do you think you are, interrogating me?" The bridesmaids closed in around me at once. "What are you doing? Trying to snatch it?" "I noticed her staring earlier—I knew she was up to no good!" Then one of the bridesmaids suddenly screamed. "Heather! Your Cartier diamond ring—the one you set on the table just now—where did it go?" The room erupted. Heather looked down. The table was indeed bare. She spun on me, jabbing a finger viciously at my face. "You thief! No wonder you kept eyeing my jewelry—you were casing it the whole time!" "Hand over my ring!" I watched their performance coldly. "I didn't take anything of yours." "Still trying to lie!" A bridesmaid grabbed at my clothes. "There's no one in this room but us and you. Who else could it have been?" "She was the closest to the table!" Heather's arrogance hit its peak. She pointed straight at my makeup case. "Search her case! If we find it, I'll have your hide!" The bridesmaids lunged at my makeup case like a pack of rabid dogs.
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